


Jocasta's Ordeal

by Sinennium_Falcon



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Community: tfa_kink, F/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-17 20:44:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5884534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinennium_Falcon/pseuds/Sinennium_Falcon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the TFA kink meme:</p>
<p>Prompt: I just want (grown up) Kylo Ren to be more of a 'Mama's boy' than anticipated. In a filthy dirty horri-bad way. He doesn't just have a Mommy kink; he fantasizes about his actual mother. </p>
<p>Bonus points for Leia accidentally (or not) giving him lots of material to work with such as changing in front of him, taking a bath while he sits in the bathroom to talk with her, letting him get in bed with her while Han gets booted to the couch, etc.</p>
<p>
  <b>Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children. – William Makepeace Thackeray</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How it Began

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I love reading fic for all the ships, it seems my brain will only engage to write for the most messed-up ones it can think of. 
> 
> Satan has saved me a seat at the high table in Hell. I apologise to Carrie Fisher and Adam Driver.

Ben Solo had always admired powerful women. Kylo Ren wasn’t that different.

The first one was of course his mother. Little Ben’s favourite bedtime story wasn’t one of Uncle Luke’s funny Jedi training anecdotes, or one of dad’s action filled smuggling stories (and hadn’t that wounded Han’s pride just a little) – it was the story of his mother strangling Jabba the Hutt with the very chain he had used to keep her prisoner. Leia wouldn’t tell it to him herself of course, no matter how many times he begged or pleaded with teary eyes. It was left to Uncle Luke to fill in the details as he had heard them, or maybe Han if he was in a mood to indulge his child’s weird pre-occupation with that story. A man had tried to control her, enslave her, and she’d murdered him in cold blood with the tools of his domination. Sometimes in his teens he would dream of her strangling him that way, and awaken covered in his own release. Those sheets he washed himself, guiltily, though his heart twisted at the thought he should be ashamed of his desire.

Ben never felt safer than when he was with his mother. When she held him, he felt her love and strength all around him and he knew she would never let anyone hurt him. But, as he grew older the cuddles became less frequent quick hugs; more lip service to comfort than the hours spent nestled against her as they read holobooks together had been. He remembered the day she had started drifting from his reach.

 

He was seven years old and bored with the story he was sat with. She was reading reports, and something in them flared a memory of fear and anger that he felt resonate in his mind. It was different than the fear and anger she felt when she and Han were arguing; that was a pricking kind of anger, irritation at his father still tempered by her love, and fear of him never coming home again. This was icy-cold and sharp, burning like frostbite.

 

Intrigued, Ben’s mind reached out to hers to discover the source. What could frighten **his** mother?  He glimpsed the monotonous grey of a starship interior, men in uniform holding her...and a figure all black and inhuman that was the source of those feelings. _Vader_ , her mind echoed before she realised Ben was there in her head and tried to block him out. This time he would not let her push him away in her ever-firm-yet-gentle way. The masked man was hypnotic somehow, and he **needed** to know why she feared him.

 

He pressed harder, and he saw. Everything. His mother was so brave, so beautiful, so defiant against the walking nightmare. She was beautiful in her rage, in her determination and grit even after hours of torture. She had wanted to hide this from him?! _No, Ben_ she pleaded silently, trying to withdraw from him instead. His will gripped harder, and insinuated itself further into her memories. This time he saw and felt Jabba’s death for himself. Her humiliation burned him, made him feel his own rising anger as well as the echo of hers. The chain in her hands, hot and heavy, arms aching with the strain of pulling it tighter and tighter, disgust at the deed and at the still drooling, quivering mass she struggled against, a moment of bubbling hysteria as Jabba’s tail comically quivered before he drew his last gasping breath. Overwhelmed by the glory of his mother’s righteous vengeance, he felt her feel his own exhilaration and recoil from it. _Please..._

 

He ignored the desperation in her thought.  It wasn’t enough. If she loved him like he knew she did, surely she wouldn’t want to hide a part of herself from him like this? He rifled through her memories like a toy chest, picking up and examining the parts that interested him most. He didn’t notice at the time how her physical body had gone unpleasantly rigid against him, how her mind was scrabbling against his trying to push him away but not strong enough to gain purchase. He lingered over a memory of Leia masturbating - this time the (first) flush of desire she felt through him repulsed her. Confused at the rejection, his will slipped enough for her to slam the metaphorical door shut on his fingers and lock it. She leapt from the sofa and away from him into her bedroom, locking the physical door between them also. He heard her crying, and felt her fear in the air. Fear of **him**.

 

She didn’t come out for hours, no matter how he begged and wept and promised to never do it again. The fact that he had upset her made him angry; at her - because he still didn’t exactly understand why it had been so wrong, and anyway why hadn’t she come back at him full of fire like she had with others who had hurt her? – but mostly at himself. His hands itched for something to smash. Han returned home from catching up with old friends at the bar to find his son sitting panting, exhausted, in the middle of wreckage that bore a slight resemblance to the living room he had left that day, and his wife locked in their bedroom, wild-eyed with terror.

 

It wasn’t long before Uncle Luke started stopping by with increasing regularity to test the limits of his force-skills, and about a year and a half later he was shipped off to the make-shift Jedi Academy his Uncle had cobbled together. Leia had never mentioned the incident afterwards, and Ben was careful to only let himself gently caress the surface of her mind in future, but he knew he had lost her forever. Now when she looked at him she remembered Vader more and more frequently, which made him upset and angry, which made her (and others around them) think of Vader more and more.


	2. The Interrogation

He felt it the moment she was brought aboard. _General Organa…Leia…Mother…_

 

The Rebel base had had advance warning of their approach, and was nearly deserted by the time the _Finalizer_ was stationed overhead and the shuttles touched down (which was why he had not bothered to go down himself). But of course, she had stayed too long, helping with the evacuation. She always did give too much of herself to those who were unworthy.

Kylo Ren had abruptly turned and marched towards the interrogation room, meeting General Hux on the way with a barked “I know.” The General hadn’t seemed that bothered at having the conversation cut short, and both continued on their respective paths.

 

The troopers stationed outside the room moved aside at his approach. Inside the doorway, he paused, savouring the feel of being in the same room after 22 years. She was afraid, but had resolved not to show it. There was a kind of fatalistic calm there too, as well as an unpleasant ache and burn in her jaw. A trooper had hit her to stop her fighting back on capture. Kylo felt his hands form into fists of their own accord. _They are a walking corpse_ , he promised himself, and removed his helmet before walking further into the room.

 

She was older. He had known that she would be, and yet…the intricate braids were threaded with grey, her face lined with worry and grief, her body less sylphlike – but she was still so very beautiful, and she still held her head high with pride.

“Hello Mother.”

She swallowed – a sign of her nervousness – and looked him square in the eye.

“Hello, Ben.”

She was still sad too. He dumped the helmet on the tool-table and returned to stand in front of her. Seeing her restrained make his stomach coil in both excitement and revulsion. This was not where she was meant to be.

“Ben…I’m sorry.”

“Are you.” He replied flatly. It was a statement, not a question.

“I shouldn’t have sent you away.”

“No,” he agreed lightly, waiting for her to continue.

“You were so strong, you needed to be shown how to use your abilities. We couldn’t do that for you.”

He laughed. Her shock at that only made him laugh harder. Hysteria. He bottled it back up again. “At first I told myself that’s why you sent me away, too. I didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. But I realised soon enough why your letters were so brief, why I was never requested to come home for important dates, why eventually you stopped writing altogether. **He** wouldn’t let you. And you loved him more than me. If you loved me at all.”

There was a flash of anger in her eyes. “Of course I love you. Despite every terrible thing you’ve done! The murder –“

He sneered. “Yes, let’s talk about that, shall we? I won’t deny what I’ve done. Your son is a **murderer** , and all you feel is shame. Yet you were more than happy to marry a murderer. Or doesn’t it count when it’s only galactic scum and stormtroopers?”

He loomed over her, a hand either side of her head. Her fear spiked, and Kylo forced himself to gentle his tone. “You forget, Solo was as sensitive as a brick. His head was an open book. I know what he told you, but he always shot first, Mother. **Always**.”

He withdrew as he saw the hurt in her eyes. _Good. Let her realise what she should have known if love had not blinded her._ He ignored the pang of guilt at being the one to tell her.

“I don’t blame you for that. You try too hard to see the good in everyone, and he told you what you wanted to hear. I knew he would only hurt you time and again, I wanted to protect you from him, but I was blinded too. It took being away from him to make me realise how manipulative he was. When he left each time, who held you when you cried? Who would make you breakfast, and bring you all your meals, and brush your hair, and even wash you, when you were too sad to get out of bed? Who loved you and never wanted to leave you? And yet, you let him back into your heart and between your legs the minute he came back.”

“Your father was a good man!” She snapped.

“MY FATHER WAS A SELFISH, STUBBORN WASTE OF A PILOT WHO DIDN’T VALUE WHAT HE HAD!” He roared. _Breathe_ , he told himself, gasping air. It wouldn’t do to get too worked up. “But he’s not here anymore. He can’t hurt you ever again.”

“No, now it’s my selfish, stubborn son who’s hurting me.”

Whether it was the words, the sadness in her eyes, the disappointment in her tone, or some combination, Kylo couldn’t say, but something just made him snap (like always). He kicked out at the tool-table, sending it toppling over and falling to the ground in a crash of metal implements, his helmet rolling to stop against the wall. Leia flinched at his display of anger but said nothing as she watched him try to regain some control over himself. Shortly his face calmed into impassivity, but she could feel his tension in the air as he began to slowly circle around the interrogation chair.

"...Are you going to torture me now?” She asked conversationally.

He huffed, half-amused, and shook his head. “We both know how well that would go.”

“Kill me, then?”

He stopped pacing. A small gesture from the fingers of his left hand and Leia’s arm restraints disappeared back into the chair with a click. She barely had time to register surprise before she was crushed back against the metal by a broad cloth and armour-covered chest, squeezed tightly by long arms. Cautiously she brought her arms around and gently held him. He sighed.

“I missed you so much, Mother. I thought about you every day.”

“I know.”

“I love you.” A whisper, barely heard.

“I love you too. I always will.”

He pulled away and gazed at her, judging the truth in her words. His eyes looked wet. She smiled impulsively. _He’s still in there somewhere. My boy._

The relief turned to shock to revulsion as he broke the distance with a hungry, searing kiss. Of course, he felt her disgust. Kylo released her with a snarl, lightsaber suddenly alight. He slashed at the fallen table, at a dormant interrogation droid, the walls – just not, thankfully, at her. Leia raised her arms to shield herself from the flying sparks. Just as rapidly as it had begun the tantrum ended. Lightsaber was deactivated and hidden, a hand raked through unruly black curls to smooth them back – then scraping at the floor to reclaim and replace that abominable helmet before leaving.

The troopers either side of the doorway snapped to attention.

“See to it that General Organa is taken to her chambers. She is an **honored** guest.” The vocoder did little to hide the rawness of his tone.

Kylo Ren marched down the hallway, resolutely trying to ignore the knowledge that his mother had just started crying.


	3. A Gift

3 hours later and Kylo Ren was marching into General Organa’s rooms, a black box under one arm. An hour and a half of tedious debriefing, roughly the same time prising some important information out of a few reluctant prisoners that demanded his ‘special touch’. Plus a few moments to sort out the present he carried. Kylo barely waited for the door to slide shut before activating the servomotors to remove his helmet, placing it on a convenient surface (along with his gloves) and turning to continue. He was arrested by a vision of loveliness that caused his heart to contract and his breath rush out in a gasp. Against a panorama of stars stood his mother, brunette plaits coiled on her head and tumbling down her back, dressed in a flowing gown of lilac and purple. For a moment he believed himself to be dreaming again – those frustrating imaginings pieced together from his father and uncle’s memories and his own aching want – until she turned to face him and he noticed the mature elegance of her face. Evidently the return of her youthful shade had been due to the overzealous ministrations of the chambers’ personal care droid.  Still, he stiffened in appreciation.

“This dress is ridiculous.” Leia grumbled, at a loss for something to say at his intense gaze. “It’s much too young for me.”

“Nonsense Mother. You look radiant.” He collected himself and continued forward, gently placing the box on the coffee table between two angular black leather sofas.

“There was nothing remotely practical in that wardrobe, but that damned droid wouldn’t let up until I changed.” She folded her arms, rubbing her elbows anxiously.

“Are you planning to scale hangar walls? Maybe help maintain the engines? I’m sure those dresses are suitable enough for activities suitable to your rank.”

She frowned at his pointed barbs. “A skirt won’t hamper my escape, if that’s what you’re thinking by filling my prison with high fashion for fascists.”

“I would expect nothing less from the woman who once spat in Grand Moff Tarkin’s eye. The ten thousand stormtroopers on board will be doing the hampering.”

He sat on the right-hand couch, ignoring how tight his trousers felt. Leia continued to stand, her eyes glancing around the room’s elegant yet severe decoration. Anything to avoid looking her son in the eyes.

 

Eventually he grew bored of the staid silence. “Come sit. I’ve brought you something.”

She ignored him, and merely reached a hand up to try and shift an uncomfortably wedged hairpin. Her thoughts were a jumble – intentionally no doubt, to keep him off guard for whatever she planned to do. Kylo could sense the nervous energy emanating from her. It was costing her a lot to remain still and outwardly calm. Perhaps the hectic muddle wasn’t intentional…he pressed harder in, looking for other signs of the mania that sheepish Bespin doctor had explained was the counterpoint to her intense debilitating sadnesses. However, her judgement seemed sound and her overlying mood was fairly stable, so satisfied, he withdrew.

“Don’t you want to see?”

She looked at him this time, then glanced down at the box briefly before fixing her gaze on the passing constellations. “No.”

The dismissal burned him inside. “Sit **down**.”

The edge in his voice was mild, but enough to make her obey. _Best keep him happy, I suppose. For now_.

He smiled then. Her heart ached. There was no malice in it. It was the echo of the boy who had always been so attentive to her, who had run messages to and from important chambers with a desperation to be helpful to her as she worked, who had wordlessly accepted a tutor instead of going to school like the children of other senators (?), who had at five years old learned to memorise the colours and shapes of pills and when she needed to take them – and who had never balked at interrupting her, meeting or no meeting, to ensure she took them. He’d even once hit Han in the nose as he’d tried to wrangle his son away from the door to a certain delicate conference.  

She refocused her attention back to the proffered box. It was largish; about the size of a hatbox, and black. Of course it was, practically everything on this horrible ship was. Black and red and grey and soulless. It seemed unpleasant sitting there, offensive even though she couldn’t say why. Gingerly she eased off the lid and peered inside. She flew up and away from the seeting area with an aborted shriek, pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the viewport and closed her eyes. A human head. “W-why-?”

Kylo followed her almost immediately, his hands gently caressing her bare shoulders in a circular motion that was no doubt meant to be comforting. It just made her feel worse.   
“I had to punish him. I can barely stand the thought of another person touching you, let alone harming you as he did. Now the rest know not to cross the line.”   
_The stormtrooper,_  she realised, as Kylo’s hand too-intimately grazed the still-healing bruise on her jaw with reverence. “I guess now there’s just nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine of them between me and the rest of space, then.”   
He chuckled. Too close, it sounded right in her ear. She felt the softness of his hair before the heat of his lips met her neck, pressed fluttering kisses down to her collarbone. Leia closed her eyes and willed herself elsewhere.  _This is not happening. I am on the base, having a too-realistic nightmare. Any moment I will be woken up by that kriffing alarm, or by that out-of-date power droid accidentally banging into the wall, poor thing has droid rot but he’s been on the base forever, the Astromechs would get upset if we relieved him of his responsibilities..._    
Whether Kylo took her silence for assent or failed to notice her mental distance, her reverie was abandoned when the hand that been caressing her jaw slowly travelled downwards and under the youthful neckline of the hated dress to caress her breast.  
“Ben, stop that!” Leia inwardly cursed that she had trapped herself between the unyielding viewport and her son’s looming frame.   
“That’s your head talking. You forget, I can hear the song your body sings.” He whispered darkly in her ear, moving the offending hand so that his fingertip grazed her nipple, which traitorously hardened under his touch. Obviously he would know all the secret places she liked to be touched, and exactly how to elicit the physical response he wanted. He had made her head his second playground as a child after all.   
“You’re doing this to me, that’s all. Abusing your skills.”  
He sounded amused. “Oh Mother, you’d know if I were  **making**  you feel this way.” To illustrate his point she felt his presence in her head, before being drowned in a wave of pleasure so strong it made her knees nearly buckle. She fell back against him, and he used his other arm to encircle her waist and keep her firm against his chest. The wave receded, and she came too to feel his thick, hard length against the small of her back. She fought down a rush of nausea.   
  
Faintly a bell sounded elsewhere on the ship. Kylo lifted his head distractedly. “Is that the time?” he murmured to himself, and reluctantly released her to wander across the room. Leia backed away across to the opposite side and reached behind her to grip the counter top. Its cool solidity was somehow reassuring. She watched him take the angular water jug and pour a glass, then press a hidden depression to reveal a small line of vials. Methodically he sorted one small yellow tablet, two oval red pills and a grey diamond – then re-pressed the hidden catch to let the vials sink back seamlessly into the body of the storage unit. Assortment of pills in one hand and filled glass in the other, he covered the distance between them too quickly.   
“Here. Your dinner will be delivered soon. You need to take these.” He offered them both, but leaving her some space. She took them from him cautiously, as if expecting some trick, and looked down at the chemicals in her hand. He had adjusted the dosage to reflect what she currently took. Did he get that from my head or did they recover some of our data? She looked back up at him, watching her expectantly with that solemn gaze, the wicked scar cutting across his too-expressive face.   
  
Impulsively she dropped the pills to the polished floor and used the ridiculous heels of her shoes to grind them into powder, flinging the glass against the wall where it shattered on impact. A soft whirr and the cleaning droid was activated, slowly progressing over to clean up the mess.   
She had hoped to make him angry again; it was so much easier to hate him when he was raging with the shadow of his grandfather in his eyes.   
However the only thing it provoked in him was worry. “Don’t do that! You need those! You’ll make yourself unwell!” He reached forward as if to shake her.  
“Don’t touch me!” She spat, dancing out of his reach.   
He retracted his hand, biting his bottom lip. “I know you’re upset but you mustn’t hurt yourself. You’ll get used to being here with me. With us being intimate again.”  
Leia narrowed her eyes and forcefully projected a memory at him; Jabba the Hutt’s grotesque visage as he tugged on her chain to pull her close.  _“Soon you will learn to appreciate me.”_  
Kylo stumbled back a few steps, looking pained. “How can you compare me to that  **thing**? I have been in love with you since I was old enough to know what love was! I don’t want you in chains!”  
His projection was so much stronger than hers, though it was no memory. An image of her, dressed like an ancient Queen, seated on an imposing throne above a court of galactic ministers that hung on her every word.  _Empress, then._  Kylo standing at her side like an inky spectre, one moment lifting her bejewelled hand to his lips for a kiss, the next gesturing with subtle menace to bring a dissenting senator to their knees with the Force in front of her. Empress Leia smiled beatifically and extended an extravagantly shod foot for the senator to kiss. Next image; her laying naked on silken sheets, long hair unbound and flowing, his head between her legs as she arched and gasped under the ministrations of his tongue. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair as she shuddered and came. Then it shifted and she was riding him, their hips meeting urgently, her head falling back as she groaned his name, raking her perfect red nails down his chest leaving red trails and making him gasp with delight. Another toe-curling orgasm and she relaxed. He flipped her over onto her back and began pounding into her as she rode out the aftershocks, chasing his own pleasure –   
  
Leia forcibly wrenched her mind away from his. “You’re disgusting.”  
His eyes sparked. With a slashing movement of his arm the coffee table slammed up and into the mirrored ceiling, sending a shower of shards, splinters and shrapnel down onto the centre of the room. Several shards embedded themselves into the material of the sofas. A couple of quiet beeps and the cleaning droid turned to engage its next target. Kylo marched away from her, snatching up his gloves, jamming on his helmet, and punched the door activation panel so hard it was a wonder it didn’t cave in. He looked positively murderous.   
  
Leia had never thought she would worry about the safety of members of the First Order. 

 


	4. A Star Destroyer is Not A Safe Place

_I have to get out of here_. Leia’s fear dissipated in a rush as she heard the screams and crashes fade to nothing. Unfortunately the interior decorators had thought of that before her; there was nothing here that could be considered a weapon even by the most creative mind. Even the vase that held the impossibly lush and fresh-looking pink blooms was molded into the counter-top. He had thought of locking her pills away to ensure her safety, of course he would consider her ability to escape through more conventional means. However, he hadn’t taken his own temper into consideration…She glanced back at the mess in the middle of the room. There was significantly less of it now, the cleaning droid happily whirring away as it single-mindedly fulfilled its programming. Leia strode over and snatched up a nasty jagged slither of mirror. She turned it over in her hands, ignoring the prickle of the edges as they caught at her skin. _It’ll do for now._

True to her son’s word, her dinner wasn’t long in arriving. She heard a murmured conversation in the outside corridor, before a synthed voice barked for her to step clear of the door. _Two of them._ Again, despite his evident derangement, Ben had clearly organized his thoughts when it came to keeping her trapped here with him.

Leia pretended to admire the flowers as the door hissed open and one trooper strode through with a tray, the other staying in the corridor with their hand pressed against the door control panel. As the tray-holder came closer, Leia bent down as if to adjust the straps of her shoe. Judging her occupied, the trooper turned to place the tray on the side, effectively blocking her from their companion’s sight. Leia jumped up from her crouch and pressed the jagged shard against the slim gap between helmet and shoulder-plate. The trooper stiffened in recognition of the threat. Her other hand flashed out and dragged their blaster from its holster, neatly walloping them with it over the head. The trooper crumpled, and she aimed their blaster at the trooper in the doorway, who now realized what was going on.

“Hands up.”

She marched forward briskly, the trooper backing away slightly, and managed to slip through the door before the external pressure-key let it shut. _This is almost too easy. So far._ She secreted the shard away on her person, before relieving the second trooper of their weapon. She felt significantly better with a blaster in either hand.

To the left of her door the walls were scored with smoldering and sparking gashes, the floor occasionally littered with remnants that could have been equipment, droid, or personnel. Easy to see where her son had been, then. That was good. She gestured right to the trooper with the nearest gun. “Get moving.”

_Assuming the others captured are still alive, they would be held elsewhere and probably heavily guarded. I’m on my own then. Maybe I can hijack a pilot if I can find my way to a hangar. Weren’t they on a sublevel on the old Imperial Destroyers?_

The halls in this sector were practically deserted. It didn’t take too long to locate a service elevator and shoo the trooper in. She briefly considered asking the trooper for directions but didn’t trust them to answer honestly. She pushed the button for the lowest level on the display. Shortly (too quickly?), the door slid back and they were moving again. _Damn it, all these halls look the same..._

“HALT!” The new trooper raised their weapon and stood to block her way. However, something seemed off. It was hard to tell though that vocoder, but the trooper seemed somewhat nervous. Experimentally, she took a step forward. To her surprise and delight, the trooper took a step backwards, still roughly aiming their weapon at her. Another few steps.

“I SAID HALT!” The trooper barked, but matched her advance with retreat. They were clearly unwilling to shoot. Leia remembered the head in the box. Word must travel fast. They were afraid of what would happen to them if they used force to try and stop her. She smiled to herself and kept going.

 

20 minutes later and Leia had acquired another 5 stormtroopers to add to her collection. That didn’t include the few who were smart enough (or less fanatically loyal to the cause) to turn on their heel and walk in another direction after spotting the absurd procession. She had also passed a technician who had leant further into the wiring and focused on their task extra intently, and a couple of lesser officers who had been so engrossed in their conversation they hadn’t even noticed the scene passing by the open doorway. While this area was more occupied than the area around ‘her’ rooms had been, there still didn’t seem like that many personnel around. Certainly not the amount one would expect to find near a hangar. _They must’ve changed the interior layout._ Surmising that she was lost, Leia decided to head through the most important-looking door she came across and hope for the best. Maybe she would catch a commanding officer with their pants down, or maybe she would end up in a ballistics training room and be able to cause some real damage.  _If you screw up, screw up big and go out with a bang_.

However, when that time came, she found herself on the upper level of the bridge, where a congregation of officers, a tall redhead with General stripes, and a chromium-plated stormtrooper captain all turned to witness her approach. _Oh, poodoo._

“General Organa, how pleasant.” The General greeted her in a monotone. He looked her up and down and raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid the ballroom is at the other end of the ship.”

There was a soft susurration of amusement from the assembled bridge crew and officers. Leia straightened her back and raised her head. She was not about to let some jumped-up smug little boy humiliate her.

“My mistake. It appears I found the septic tank instead.” She aimed the blaster in her left hand firmly between his eyes. “You will direct me to the nearest hangar, General...”

“Hux. And I think not. I’m sure you and Kylo Ren still have much to discuss. One would think you would be ecstatic to see each other after all these years.”

_He knows._ “My son is very sick.”

“I don’t doubt it. I **have** met him. But I’ve heard there’s no medicine better than Mummy’s hugs and kisses.”

Leia shifted her aim and fired the blaster, just missing the General and blowing a smoking hole in the computer panel embedded in the wall beside him, then refocused the barrel back to his forehead.

“That wasn’t a request, General.”

Hux narrowed his eyes. “Now I see the familial resemblance; you both destroy things when you don’t get what you want. How thrilling for me to have you both aboard my ship. To think that Admiral Tionox only had a flesh-eating bacteria outbreak on the _Revenant_.”

“Take me to a hangar and you’ll only have him to deal with. Or are we going to stand here all day and take tea?”

Hux crossed his arms. “I think you’ll find the sadiss cake very palatable.”

Leia deflated. “ **Please.** I won’t give him what he wants from me. I **can’t**.” 

For a moment General Hux’s expression softened, and there was a gleam of pity in his eyes. Then it was gone, and he was once again a stony model of a perfect First Order officer.

“As much as I loathe admitting it, your son could kill me with an idle thought.  So no, I won’t be taking you anywhere. Captain Phasma, escort General Organa back to her chambers.”

The chromed trooper started forward, but stopped at the angling of Leia’s second blaster in her direction. She moved towards Leia again, then hesitated. “Sir –“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Hux huffed, and leant across the still-fizzling hole in the computer terminal to activate a comlink. “Ren, General Organa is currently holding up the bridge with twin blasters. Come deal with it.”

Leia felt panic and despair well up inside her.  _I’m not going back in that gilded cage._

“Listen here you slimy bantha-humper, you think all the cock you sucked to get those stripes and this ship makes you a big man? I could beat you to the ground with one arm behind my back!”

Hux’s eyes flashed and he raised a hand to strike her.

“HUX.” The low modulated growl made everyone flinch. Kylo Ren melted out of the shadows like a nightmare and stalked over, body language clearly predatory despite the impassivity of the helmet.

Hux glared at him, but lowered his arm. “How long have you been standing there?”

“A while.”

Leia hastily swung a blaster around as he approached, and squeezed the trigger. Nothing. The trigger refused to move, no matter how hard she pressed it. Kylo gently held her wrist and carefully prised her fingers off the weapon, easing it out of her white-knuckled grip and handing it to Phasma. Her left arm went up to try and use the other one as a club, but it halted in mid-air against her will, an invisible barrier that she couldn’t breach. Kylo divested her of the second blaster in the same way, then stepped back and offered his arm.

“General Organa, let me escort you back to your chambers. You haven’t eaten.”

“Do try and keep her secure this time, Ren. A starship can be a dangerous place.”

The helmet tilted to one side. “Is that a threat?” The air crackled with malice and dislike.

General Hux sniffed. “Merely an observation.” Hux strolled off across the bridge, the other officers and Phasma following in his wake, no doubt to continue the interrupted conference.

“I  **like**  her.” Murmured Phasma to Lieutenant Mitaka as they went.

“Mother, come along.”

Leia refused to take the proffered arm, and marched off. Kylo quickly met her pace to walk alongside her. She could feel the gentle push of his mind as he wordlessly steered her through the maze of corridors. Entertainingly, personnel practically leapt out of their way as they went.

“Are you upset that I embarrassed you in front of your friends?” She prodded, tone light but needling.

“They’re not friends, just current allies.” A beat. “I was hoping to see you thrash Hux, actually. It would’ve made a treasured memory. If he bothers you again, his left knee is compromised; it’s why he’s never been on the battlefield.”

She felt his contempt _. No love lost between those two._  She filed the fact away for future reference.

Silence descended again as they headed across an unrailed gangway. Two levels below the open space was a hive of activity, more consoles flashing and black suited petty officers exchanging information from who-knows-where. Feeling fainty dizzy, Leia looked back up.  He was taking her back a different way, of course, to confuse her further.

“Ben, you’re very sick. Why don’t we take your shuttle and go see a doctor, together? You remember how nice Dr Laas was – or we could go to Coruscant if you prefer, they have lots of specialists, we could find someone who can help you – “

He stopped abruptly and turned to her. “I’m not ill, Mother. The Supreme Leader explained it to me. These sorts of feelings are far more common than the galaxy wants you to think, and they’re  **natural** , normal. It’s one of  **their**  lies; laws and morals are how they control the masses with shame and fear of punishment. For the powerful, rules are made to be broken.” Tenderness crept into the modulated tone. “And you have always been powerful, Mother. You were born to command. When I am strong enough, I’ll make all the stars in the sky worship you, as they should.”

“You think Snoke is going to allow that?” Leia ignored the chill that cooled her blood at Kylo’s crazed words. “He’s using you to get what he wants, telling you what you want to hear.”

“No one seems to think that I might be using him as well!” Kylo replied hotly, taking a step forward. “As his apprentice, he shares his knowledge, trains me, refines me, makes me into – “

“A tool!”

“A  **weapon**.” He corrected. “A weapon that can be turned on its creator and then used in the service of its rightful mistress.”

He felt her doubt. Leia was thinking of Rey, and the gash the untrained Jedi had carved across his features as a mark of his failure. Humiliation and indignation bubbled in his brain.  _She thinks I failed because I am weak._

“I didn’t want to kill the scavenger. She’s strong, quick and clever, and would’ve made a good ally – a competent second-in-command.” He hesitated.  This  **was**  his mother he was talking to… “And she was lonely, she wanted the family who had left her to come back. I could relate to that.” He shrugged. “I guess I misjudged the situation.”

In truth, Rey had reminded him of Leia; her determined yet kind eyes, her bravery against the odds, her willingness to fight a little dirty and fling insults if the occasion called for it. He had even wanted her a little, as a comfort to take the edge off what he truly craved.

A surge of maternal feeling rolled off Leia as she thought about Rey, hugging her when she returned, fiddling awkwardly with her jacket as they said goodbye before Rey went looking for Skywalker. If she had had a daughter like Rey... For a moment Kylo was blinded by jealousy. _The next time I see that dirty junk rat I’ll destroy her. Carve her apart piece by piece according to what hurts most. How DARE she steal Mother’s affection, poison her mind against me!_

The darkness emanating from him put Leia on edge again. She couldn’t let his moments of gentleness, vulnerability and sanity lull her into a false sense of security. He was unstable in the worst way, violent and depraved. How long could she keep fending off those offensive advances until he got too impatient or frustrated and took it out on her? She reached into the secret pocket of her dress – perhaps conceived for a similar purpose – and carefully closed her hand around the slither of mirror.

“Shall we carry on? I **am** a bit hungry now.”

“And whose fault is that?” He replied petulantly, but started walking anyway.

Leia tried to clear her mind as they went. She needed to wait for an opportune moment, and not let anything clue him in to what she planned.

Yet again, a random doorway was the key. Passing it, she saw it led out to another open walkway. A synapse screamed ‘go’ and she yanked the shard out, stabbing him in the side and kicking at his shin. As he half-stumbled, half crumpled against the corridor wall, she bolted through the doorway and down half the walkway, then leapt off it.

She landed heavily on her left arm and side, dizzy with pain and breathless from the impact. At least one thing had cracked. No matter. She grit her teeth and righted herself, then broke into a run. A room full of startled personnel tracked her progress, but did nothing to stop her. Before she was halfway across her shoe caught in the voluminous petticoats. Her ankle twisted too far and she was yet again face down on the floor with a new surge of hurt. _Fucking dress!_

An ominous thump sounded behind her and she turned her head to witness Kylo begin to unfold himself from his landing crouch.

_Shitshitshitshit..._ She scrabbled backwards, still somehow hoping to make it across to the safety of a door control panel, something she could use to block him out for a few moments to lose him, anything...He stomped across to her. In desperation she wrenched the shoes off and flung them at him. He dodged them effortlessly, and swept her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing at all.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to eat your dinner in the medical bay.” Kylo said pleasantly, as if remarking on the weather. She thumped on his chest, then punched at his head. Her damaged arm connected with the helmet and she yelped, whereas he seemed unconcerned.

“Be still. Haven’t you hurt yourself enough for one day?”

“Go to hell!”

“Every day without you was hell.”

Leia started sobbing. “Oh Ben, you’ve grown into a monster.”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied sadly. “But I’m **your** monster.”


	5. Imagine a Mother and Son Bonding: This Isn't It

Kylo looked down at Leia’s sleeping face. The lighting washed her out, made her look tired and sad though tranquil. The medical droid had had to sedate her in order to treat her injuries, since she had refused to stop struggling, crying and spitting insults at anyone within range. A ghost of a smile played on his face at the recollection. He preferred her that way; her fire was proof of her anger – it seethed further below the surface than his own, was more controlled – but it was there, proof that they were more alike than anyone but he cared to admit. _We were made for each other. Maybe one day she will stop denying that._

He lowered his head and regarded the long, jagged edge of mirror in his hands, the upper point crusted in blackish red. His armour had stopped most of the shard from penetrating, but the top inch had skated across his rib and carved a slice through skin and muscle enough to briefly weaken him. The sides of the makeshift blade had light smears; her palms had been covered with a map of prickles and shallow cuts. Their blood was mingled on this weapon, forged in his torment and her desperation. He intended to treasure it, to use it to aid his meditation now that his grandfather’s mask and ashes were gone; atoms floating in the asteroid field that was once Starkiller along with the body of his estranged father. A flicker of remorse flared inside, but he pushed it away. If Solo and his mother had permanently separated, maybe he wouldn’t have had to kill the charming but feckless adventurer. But Han had refused to give up, despite his uselessness as a carer, always coming between Ben and his mother. Then Ben could’ve slept every night in bed next to his mother, looking after her **properly** , AND had the awkward but well-meaning attempts at bonding over engine parts and teaching him to fly. _Oh well, such is life._

He placed the shard on the arm of the chair, and reached across to smooth a stray strand of chestnut from Leia’s face. Kylo breathed in the smell of her; soft and somehow sweet yet sensual, under the odour of antiseptic from her surroundings and the delicate, expensive scent the personal care droid had applied when dressing her. He replayed the sensation of holding her tight against his chest, her weight in his arms as he carried her. Only this time, she hadn’t hurt herself or run from him, and was squirming in impatience as he carried her to her chambers, her breath hot in his ear as she confessed her need to him...

He hissed and refocused on reality. His balls ached and he was so hard it was painful; since he had her on board, it seemed his only urges were to fuck and destroy. After all, for at least 15 years that was how he had used her image; to drive himself towards victory or to bring himself to orgasm. Everything she did seemed to inflame his passions.

It needed taking care of. This room in the bay was private and secure; in fact it was the same one he had recovered in after the disastrous battle in the snow. It was why he had allowed himself to remove his mask, as seeing her with his own eyes was so much better. However, he baulked at the idea of doing it here. Leia was going to be kept sedated until after they docked on Morabad (he had insisted, for her safety and ease of transfer), but there was something distasteful about shoving his hand down his trousers while she just lay there insensible. If she had been awake and watching eagerly, that was another matter.

With a grunt he unfolded his long limbs and rose out of the chair, crossing to the attached ‘fresher, where he locked the door and sat down heavily. His gloves were flung on the floor, his erection exposed to the air and then enclosed in his hands. He leant his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, giving his imagination free reign.

 

Kylo carried Leia into her rooms, and gently laid her on the nearest sofa. Helmet and gloves were carelessly abandoned on the floor as he knelt before her, removing the shoes that were causing her pain. Gently, firmly, his long fingers worked against the aches and elicited soft sighs of pleasure from his beloved. He kissed each foot as he finished, then sat back on his heels and looked up worshipfully at her.

Leia smiled at him benevolently.  “You’re such a good boy.” She ran her hand through his hair lovingly and he arched into her touch. The hand traced down his cheek, and jaw, then rested on his chest. “Stand up and take your clothes off. I want to see what a big strong man you’ve become.”

Wordlessly he stripped off his cloak and dumped it. The leather boots, belt, and rough surcoat quickly joined it. The padded armour was a little fiddlier, and his fingers fumbled with the hidden catches. Embarrassed at his clumsiness, he looked back to her but saw only reassurance and a thrumming excitement in her expression. Somehow it made returning to the task that much easier. The soft undershirt went over his head, and the leather trousers fell to his ankles to be kicked off. His skin prickled in the relative cool of the room. Kylo was unused to being less than fully dressed in company.

Leia hitched in a breath and sat up, reaching to splay her hands against his abdomen and trace patterns with her fingertips. “You **have** grown, haven’t you?” she murmured. He was lightly muscled, more wiry and toned than bulkily solid. It didn’t bother him; he knew she preferred men that way.  

Delicate hands moved down to his hips, and her gaze fell on his crotch. She raised an eyebrow. “Is that for me?”

“Always for you, Mother.” He uttered, voice rough with lust.

Another smile – this time her eyes danced with desire and mischief – and she slowly eased his straining underwear down. Her eyes widened a little with surprise and delight at what she saw. He knew he was bigger than his father had been, but then he had been taller than him too, so Kylo had never thought that much about it. Some of the women he had practiced sex with (for how was he supposed to worship his mother’s body properly if he had only a theoretical knowledge of how to give her pleasure?) had expressed that his size was a little unusual, but he had thought they had been trying to massage his ego and hadn’t taken them seriously.

Leia kissed the head of his cock, then ran her tongue down the underside of his shaft, following a pulsing vein and making him groan. Butterfly kisses marked her trail back up, twirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh of the head before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. Awareness of his senses dissolved in the sensations of his mother’s hot, wet mouth sucking and hands pumping and stroking his throbbing length. At one point she hummed around his cock, causing a spike of pleasure so intense his hips thrust forward of their own volition and she briefly gagged.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” He stammered. Even forming the words was difficult. It was enough of a struggle to stay standing.

_“It’s okay baby, don’t worry. This is for you to enjoy.”_ He heard her gentle assurance in his head at the same time she looked up at him adoringly, and their eyes met as she carefully took him down into her throat. He didn’t last long after that, orgasm only intensified by Leia hungrily swallowing his come, even going so far as to wipe it from the corner of her mouth and lick it off her fingers.

 

In the real world, Kylo came over his hand with a strangled bark, and then started sobbing. _It isn’t fair._ _She has my heart, why can’t I have hers?_


	6. To Deal With The Devil

The music pulsed and thrummed in Leia’s head, almost forcing her limbs to move to the rhythm it set. The coffee table was easily pushed back against the wall and that gave her enough space to twirl and sway as the melody demanded. Everything was so good, it was perfect. _Nothing will ever go wrong, ever, ever again._

“Leia, what’re you doing?” Han frowned, stopping in the doorway to stare at his wife.

She ignored the question and turned to him with a smile, adding a hip roll or two for his benefit. “Come dance with me.”

His scowl deepened and he crossed his arms. “There’s no music.”

She laughed. Silly of him, to pretend he didn’t hear it just because he was embarrassed over his own lack of rhythm. It didn’t matter; she just needed someone to hold close and squeeze, the joy she felt was almost overflowing; it felt like she might explode if she didn’t let it out.

“I’ll dance with you Mother!” Ben leapt up from the sofa, holo-reference books and datapad falling to the floor in his careless eagerness.

Leia held her hands out to him and he took them, and she eased them into a swaying stately courtly dance she had learnt in her youth but had rarely ever needed. For a 6 year old he was already so tall. Was it normal to have growth spurts that young? The thought slipped out of her mind like water.

“There’s something wrong with you.” Han’s voice was tinged with realisation.

“No, I’m fine. Better than fine, I’m fabulous!”

“Did you take your pills today?”

Ben looked round his mother’s form with a glare nearly identical to the one Han had just worn. “I gave them to her this morning. I don’t forget.”

Han huffed and disappeared back out the door.

Leia laughed again. She wasn’t sure what was funny. Maybe everything was funny. Life is a big joke after all, so why shouldn’t everything be funny? It was better to laugh, much much better.

Ben stumbled and went red.

“No baby, left foot first, remember? Like this.” She demonstrated again, slower.

He looked her in the eye, then his embarrassed pallor drained.

“You spit them out!” He gasped.

“Shh Benny-baby! Don’t tell Daddy, he’ll get mad. Besides, I’m better now, I’m happy again. I don’t need them anymore.”

“Our secret.” He said quietly, unsure but clearly attracted by the idea.

Compulsively Leia bent down and kissed him, then focused back on the dance.

From the next room there came a short string of expletives, and Han reappeared in the doorway. “Leia, what the frell? There’s a full week’s worth in the chute!”

He extended a hand to reveal the capsules he’d recovered, slightly misshapen and wet from the other items that had lurked in the clogged chute.

Ben stopped and looked, eyes wide. Leia wordlessly urged him to continue. She ignored Han’s revelation. It was pointless to talk about it anyway; it was obvious she didn’t need them. He was just being stubborn, making her take them because he’d been the one to make the doctor’s appointment for her. Her being better was just another thing that made him feel like he wasn’t needed. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of arguing; he had known since Hoth that she wasn’t the type to rely on someone purely for the sake of it.

“I’m comm-ing the med unit.” He announced, disappearing again.

_No. I’m not sick I’m not I’m not I’m not!_

She bent down and whispered in Ben’s ear. “Sweetheart, do you want to go for a walk with me?”

“A walk where?”

“Wherever you want to go. Just us. Daddy’s mad at me; if we invite him he’ll ruin it.”

Ben bit his lip, considering, then beamed. “We could go to the ice-cream bar. I still have credits from my birthday, we could share a Dagobah split!”

She smiled indulgently. “That sounds lovely, baby. Quickly, we can’t let Daddy know we’ve gone!”

Ben solemnly took her hand in his and led her to his room, gathered up the credits, then led her out the door. Outside the apartment, they broke into a run.

 

Leia woke to a dull yet stubborn ache that seemed to surround her. She felt the pressure of bandages on her ankle and side, the rigid casing of a cast on her left arm. She recited a string of alien curses and tried to focus. After the last vestiges of sleep had passed, she noted that she was neither in a sterile and unfriendly medical bay room, nor the sleek and comfortable but impersonal _Finalizer_ suite.  Instead, the bedroom she was in was so perfectly tailored to her tastes it was distressing; it looked cosy and lived in but lacked anything that even hinted of the presence of another person. No room was ever that immaculately focused on the owner; there were always unwanted gifts, things you wouldn’t have bought for yourself but still a lovely thought, and bits and pieces picked up out of need and function more than taste. Even the items out of place - the small bit of make up scattered across the dressing table, a couple of outfits thrown haphazardly over an artistic screen – was so very much how she might have left things that it was eerie. _Ben has done this_ , she realised. _So where am I?_

She flung the sheet and blanket off herself and found herself in a nightdress. It was pretty but modest (though perhaps a shade slinky), and Leia immediately looked away to ignore the urge to wonder who it was that changed her. She suspected she knew anyway, but thinking about it would do no good. Another thing, though; the room had no windows or viewports. There were shelves and art instead.

She eased herself over and out of the bed, wincing as her damaged ankle took her weight. It hurt, but not enough to stop her walking.

 

There was no door between her bedroom and the living quarters, just an opaque curtain of soft, flowing fabric. The first sign of outside influence; Leia valued security and privacy. The living quarters were very much to the same spec as the bedroom had been; too much of her and no windows. Except for the form of Kylo Ren, half-laying and half-hanging off the sofa, who turned his head and smoothed his sleep-roughed hair out of his face.

“Mother...what are you doing out of bed?” He stretched, joints popping, and then frowned. There were no gloves, no helmet, nothing but what looked like more informal dress. It unsettled her. It was too intimate somehow; it made it easier to forget who he was and what he’d done. All those layers of armour and robes helped maintain an intimidating distance that she had come to rely on in their encounters. Now, he could’ve just been her son, sleeping over in her apartment because she was injured and he was worried.

“I woke up.” She could think of nothing else to say. There was a tray resting on the table in front of where he had lain; a breakfast tray. Memories of Ben as a child struggling to manoeuvre through the door while balancing a platter rose up unbidden. At first the offerings were messy, either over or slightly undercooked but still edible – provided he could coax her into eating. It improved as time went on, though her illness often declined and he would sometimes take it upon himself to feed her when even moving her arm felt like too much effort in a sea of misery.

“You should be resting. You broke your arm and three ribs, and sprained your ankle. Bacta and medical technology can only do so much.”

He rearranged himself so he sat on one side, and then gestured at the space beside him. “I was going to bring your breakfast in to you, but you can sit and eat it here.”

Leia turned away. Of the entrances running off this room, only one had an actual door. It looked so solid it could withstand an explosion. _That must lead outside of the suite_. She took a few halting steps forward.

“Stop.” His voice had that edge to it again, the one that screamed danger despite the softness of tone. “Sit.”

She limped further. The tension in the atmosphere escalated. She could feel the dark emanating from him again, and part of her welcomed it.

“It’s opened via an iris-scan, you can’t get out.” Terser, this time. A hint of frustration.

Stubbornly she pressed on. Even if there was no point to it, she wanted to touch the metal to know for herself. Plus, even the smallest acts of defiance were important; they kept you focused and showed the enemy that you weren’t easily cowed. On the last step her ankle nearly gave out and she stumbled, sucking in a breath at the brief throb of agony.

“SIT DOWN!” Kylo roared, furious and concerned, thumping his fist on the table so hard the contents on the tray bounced. In terror Leia found herself falling ungracefully to sit on the floor.

He sighed, raked his hand through his hair again, and then stood, pacing over to her. “Forgive me. I don’t like to see you in pain.” He carefully gathered her up again and retreated back, sitting down with her on his lap.

“This isn’t very dignified.” Leia protested quietly, starting to fidget. She stopped when she felt him beginning to harden underneath her.

“But an excellent way to ensure you stay put.” He responded, lifting the tray and holding it so it securely rested on her legs.

She ate what had been provided, but barely tasted it, what with her brain racing to calculate some escape plan and feeling his focused gaze fixate too often on her mouth.

“Where are we?”

“Home.”

“And where is that?”

He chuckled. “You’re still a Resistance General, I can’t tell you.”

“How would I be able to pass the intel along? I can’t create a messaging system from a datapad, two dress hangers, and a lipstick. Besides, I instructed that if I were ever captured a rescue mission was off limits.”

“Always worrying for others’ safety above your own...” He murmured into the shell of her ear. “You forget how much those you lead love you.” His even inflection twisted a little bitterly on the word ‘love’. “I know official orders wouldn’t stop me from coming for you.”

“Thankfully all my troops are sane.” She replied acidly, biting into a slice of ripe, crisp fruit.

“If desiring you was a sign of insanity, I expect half the galaxy would need treatment.” He nuzzled into her loose hair, resting his nose against the crook of her neck. “Even your precious ace pilot had thought of being in your bed. I made his extraction that bit more painful, to teach him his place. Only **I** belong there. ”

Leia abruptly stopped eating and tried to lean away. “If you want me to eat this, you need to stop saying things that make me want to throw up.”

He tensed. She felt him take two, three, four deep breaths and then relax.

“Perhaps this would be easier for you if you pretended I was someone else.” He said lightly.

_Yes...Ben died at the Jedi academy. Kylo Ren massacred them all. And now he’s captured me and fallen obsessively in love, this oddly compelling yet disturbed stranger..._

Leia snapped out of the trance and managed to land a stinging slap on his cheek. “Don’t you DARE use your mind tricks on me!”

“Very well. I just thought you might be tired of fighting against your **morals**.”

 

He stayed sullenly silent after that, so Leia resumed her breakfast in order to occupy herself. The truth was, she **was** tired of fighting. She had been waging war for what seemed like all her life; against the Empire, the First Order, the darkness in her blood, and her own mind. So damn tired. It had brought her only loss. But to give in, that was something she couldn’t do. She wouldn’t let herself give up, not while the lives of others relied on her staying strong and crusading for what she knew in her heart to be right.

Her thoughts returned to her last imprisonment, that vile Hutt. She recalled Ben’s odd obsession with the tale as a child. It hadn’t seemed prurient then; the part he had seemed most interested in was her killing Jabba, which at the time she had thought was him being taken with her triumph against an oppressor (which was why, though she had shied away from telling it herself, she hadn’t tried to silence Han or Luke relating it to him. It was a good message to inspire a child). Now, **he** was the oppressor...but maybe he could also be the chain she used to strangle the First Order and Snoke. 

Watching Luke defeat the rancor –  Jabba’s prized pet – Leia had obviously felt relief that her brother survived, but she had also felt the sting of the rancor trainer’s sorrow through the Force as he cradled the beast’s enormous head and wept. He had raised that creature from a pup, had trained it, loved it, and it had probably returned that love. As much as it could. Maybe she could tame her monster of a son, or at least train him to do what she wanted with his raw power and influence.

The notion was sound; he had already expressed willingness to be disloyal in her favour if there was a conflict of interests. _Rightful mistress, indeed._ It was the thought of how he would be tamed that made her hesitate. She knew the most secure way would be to go along with his desires, perverse though they were.

But that would mean admitting what she had locked inside the deepest part of her mind and tried to ignore for years. She had kissed Luke, more than once, and had enjoyed it. It had been before they knew they were brother and sister, but there had been no way of telling from the kisses alone; the spark of desire and pleasure had still been there. In the end, she had just fallen for Han over Luke – which had been a massive relief when she had finally found out the truth. She hadn’t seen Ben since he was 7 years old; the man he had become was an enigma in a way. He wasn’t handsome in the standard manner; his features were too large for that. But his face was expressive and somehow endearing despite – or perhaps because of – his brooding. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as unpleasant as she feared. Even if it was, she had surely endured worse.

 

Resolved, she turned herself so that she faced his profile. He eyed her warily. She hadn’t felt him in her head since she had slapped him, most likely he had been submerged in his own thoughts while sulking. Experimentally she ran her hand through his hair. It was soft and silky to the touch. He leant into her caress and briefly closed his eyes.

She drew him closer and kissed him. After a second of surprise he responded and deepened the kiss. It was actually the opposite of unpleasant.

She broke the connection, to his visible chagrin.

“Kylo, take me to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is all I have so far. It's where I planned to end it, but there may be more when my life isn't quite so hectic. We'll see. Thanks for reading!


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